Hollen the Soulless: A Fantasy Romance (Dokiri Brides Book 1)

by Denali Day

  Don’t. Not now. Get through this first.

  “Your father awaits you,” Sir Richard muttered, leading her to a massive, winding staircase.

  Joselyn nodded, willing the appearance of confidence. “Kindly call me a maid, and I’ll attend him as soon as I’ve been appropriately dressed.”

  As they climbed the first few steps, Sir Richard turned a pitying glance toward her. “He requires your immediate presence, my lady.”

  She swallowed, not returning his gaze. So, this was how it was to be? Joselyn would be presented to her father like an errant child, still covered in the mire of mischief.

  “He’s most anxious to assure himself of your safety.”

  “Indeed. Nearly as anxious as his steward.” She kept her gaze ahead.

  Their steps faltered. In her periphery, Joselyn caught the shocked look Sir Richard shot her. Never had he heard her speak even a hint of reproach for his master. Joselyn inclined her chin and pressed on to the interior balcony.

  A pair of guards stood outside a heavy door. It was gilded in the same silver granite which adorned the outer walls. Surely Sir Richard had taken her to the master’s suite. Joselyn sucked in a breath. Lord Arland had likely relinquished his own chambers for a guest such as Marcus Fury. Truly, there seemed no limit to what men would do to win her father’s favor.

  The door swung open with a groan. Joselyn squinted against the last red rays of setting sun that poured through towering stained-glass windows. Sir Richard drew her forward, and the doors shut behind them. Her eyes adjusted, and Joselyn’s gaze fell upon the man she’d nearly died trying to return to.

  He sat on a satin settee, an arm draped over the back. His other hand held a golden goblet. Steeling herself, Joselyn looked into his eyes. Cold and gray as the day she’d departed. The only things different were the lines over his brow and about his eyes. They were longer. Deeper.

  Beside her, Sir Richard released Joselyn’s arm and straightened on a bow. “My Lord Fury. Captain Royce sends your daughter.”

  There was silence.

  Joselyn held her breath as her father’s eyes wandered up and down her furs. She clasped her hands together and waited. An eternity passed, and Marcus looked away.

  “Where was she found?”

  “North of where the boy reported, in the company of a dragon rider.”

  “Where is this rider?”

  Sir Richard cleared his throat. “He wasn’t recovered, my lord.”

  “A pity.” Marcus lifted the goblet to his lips and took a long sip.

  Joselyn watched him. An old bitterness curled in her stomach with each passing moment. Would he not greet her? Acknowledge her in any fashion? She drew in a breath. No. Not until it suited him.

  “You are dismissed, Sir Richard,” Marcus finally said.

  Nodding, Sir Richard pounded on the door and made his exit. Joselyn barely caught the flicker of sympathy in his eyes as the doors shut behind him.

  “I confided in you.”

  Joselyn’s shoulders stiffened. She turned her attention back to the man who’d sired her. He set his goblet on the nearby table with a crisp clank, then stood. His gaze was wintry, accusing, as he crossed the room.

  “I explained to you what this alliance with Viridian meant for our house. Explained what fate awaited us if you failed to meet your duty.”

  As he drew closer, Joselyn had to tilt her chin upward to hold his gaze.

  “And yet, barely on the eve of meeting your sole obligation in life”—he paused, staring hard down his nose at her—“you vanished.”

  She didn’t respond. Knew better. He meant to punish her with shame. Her participation wasn’t required. Only her endurance.

  “For what purpose were you taken?” he asked.

  Joselyn stared through him. “He desired a bride.”

  Marcus’ lips thinned. “And you became his bride? Spread your legs for him?”

  “No.” Joselyn didn’t know which question she was answering. She was a liar regardless.

  “No?” Marcus stepped to Joselyn’s side and looked her over head to toe. She stood tall, refusing to flinch.

  Marcus spoke from behind her, “You’ve been gone for six weeks, Daughter. Surely the barbarian made use of you.”

  “I wasn’t harmed.”

  A moment.

  Another.

  Finally, Marcus circled back into Joselyn’s line of sight. He was grinding his teeth. “My carriage was returned to me intact, as was the maid accompanying you. One would wonder how the fiend managed to get ahold of you. But I’ve been told you were on horseback, riding away from the procession no less.”

  Joselyn turned her head toward him. Even now, after all she’d done, he sought to blame her for his troubles. It had been that way since the day she was born, intolerably female. It would never change.

  “Yes.”

  “You put the future of your house in jeopardy. You put the life of your lord father in the utmost peril. Answer me truly, Daughter, are you still loyal?”

  Disgust bubbled in Joselyn’s gut. His question was a slap in the face. No daughter had ever been more loyal, and where had it gotten her? Here. As ever, she stood before her lord father like a wayward dog, awaiting a whipping and the next command. She squared her shoulders.

  “I am ever loyal to House Fury.”

  Relief crossed his features. The tension in his muscles eased. That’s what it had taken, her assurance that she still planned to fulfill her role. That she was alive and unharmed had done nothing for him.

  Marcus sighed, a rare gesture. “By some miracle, Dante Viridian is still willing to have you despite the indignity you’ve called upon yourself.”

  Joselyn fought the urge to grimace. Like she’d been an adolescent girl, sneaking out her window at night. She bit her tongue.

  “You cannot begin to comprehend what your indiscretion has cost our house. Placating Viridian has been absurdly expensive. Your dowry has doubled. Twice.”

  Joselyn raised a brow. She might have been marrying a prince for such a sum, not a backwater lord. How much suspicion had that raised?

  Lord Fury continued. “The money wasn’t half so troublesome as convincing Viridian that your disappearance wasn’t some fancy trick. How do you think he responded when informed that the price for his silence had been carried off by a reclusive creature of the mountaintops?”

  This conversation was getting tedious. She forced herself to go along. “I imagine he was most unaccommodating.”

  “Were it not for the peasant who spotted you whilst you traipsed about on the mountain, you might never have been recovered. House Fury would have suffered the consequences of your indiscretions.”

  Joselyn looked to the floor, an outward sign of submission. Inside she burned to remind her father that House Fury wouldn’t be in this position were it not for his indiscretions.

  “You will marry Dante Viridian the night after tomorrow.”

  Joselyn’s gaze snapped up. “So soon? Here?”

  Marcus scrutinized her as though he’d been ready for her reaction and was prepared to make something of it. Joselyn dug her nails into her own palms.

  “Yes. It would be sooner if the priest were amenable to a ceremony outside of Soulday. The Viridians are anxious to receive payment for their end of the deal. And after the events of these past weeks, I’m inclined to oblige them.”

  “But…surely the other lords will whisper of scandal.”

  “Indeed.” Marcus began to pace. “It’s unavoidable.”

  “And Lord Arland? He has agreed to host a wedding?” The nearest keep was several days away in any direction.

  “All the arrangements have been made. I regret that your wedding will not be a formal affair. Though it will be legal, and that shall be enough for you.”

  Joselyn might have scoffed were her mind not rising into a full state of panic. Her father hadn’t even planned on attending her original wedding, a slight meant to insult her bridegroom. It wasn’t the
unorthodox nature of her nuptials that distressed her. It was the rapidly approaching date. It could be counted down by hours.

  “Surely, this can be gone about another way. Father, think of my reputation.” She poured every bit of feminine duress into her voice.

  Marcus’ whirled on her. “Your reputation is near irreparable as things stand. Be grateful, Daughter, that Viridian still desires an alliance more than he desires a virtuous bride.”

  How had her circumstances changed so much, so quickly? Hours ago, she’d been bathing in the afterglow of the best night she’d ever experienced. Like an impossible dream, the sunrise had woken her to the nightmare that was her true life. The tingling of pins flushed down Joselyn’s arms. She shook her head once. “I nearly died on that mountain, Father.”

  Marcus Fury stiffened, and his face went momentarily blank. He looked startled, as though he’d never imagined she might try to tell him of what she’d been through.

  “I tried to escape. My fear for our house drove me to take risks. Ones I paid for. I nearly lost my life many times over.” She paused, swallowing hard. “I would have done anything to uphold my duty to House Fury. To you.”

  Marcus regarded her. “And you think you’re entitled to some thanks now, is that it?”

  For the first time in years, Joselyn let slip her mask. Her father would see her raw, a creature of his own making. She tilted her head back, presenting him with a full view. “Did you ever love me, Father?”

  A long moment passed. When he finally spoke, his voice was measured for effectiveness rather than sincerity. “I don’t doubt your loyalty, Joselyn. It’s because you are loyal that you will marry Viridian. It will serve my will and preserve our house.”

  Joselyn let her gaze float to the floor. That was it. The extent of his regard for her. She inhaled a deep breath and was surprised at how easily it came. There was no pain. No anger. Not even bitterness. Joselyn felt nothing at all.

  A flash of gold shimmered at the edge of her vision. She blinked back up. Lord Fury held out her pendant. It spun on the chain, reflecting the firelight.

  “You’ve been an admirable daughter, Joselyn. Don’t fail me now.”

  She was a guest in a stranger’s home on the nigh-eve of her wedding to a madman. Bone weariness assailed her every step. She’d not slept since the night before last and now? Even her furs were too heavy.

  A servant led Joselyn down the plush-rugged corridor to her temporary chamber. As the young girl cracked open the door, Joselyn plowed through without waiting for a formal welcome. She needed the sanctuary of four walls. Solitude.

  The servant girl began her explanation of the many amenities the room had to offer, but Joselyn waved her off. She couldn't care less if it was rude. Mercifully, the girl tripped over a curtsy and hurried out of the room.

  When the door clicked shut, Joselyn leaned into the wall. She pressed a hand to the cool stone and ran it downward. The bricks were rough beneath her fingertips. Not like at Bedmeg, where the walls of her bok were naturally smooth.

  Hollen.

  Tears filled her eyes.

  Hollen.

  Now, more than ever, she wanted to feel his arms around her, to hear him whisper the words she hadn’t returned. I love you. Her lip trembled, and she slid to the floor.

  Where was he? Where did he think she was? She’d sworn not to leave him. Would he know that something had happened to her? Would he think she’d tricked Sigvard into taking her home? Was Sigvard even alive?

  It was too much. The tears spilled over. Joselyn reached for her tanshi mark. Her fingers bumped into her pendant, the symbol of her house, first. The chain hung like a collar around her neck. She choked on a whimper.

  There was a pounding at the door. Joselyn jumped up. She swept her hands under her eyes, whisking away the tears. She was just opening her mouth to shoo away the visitor when a familiar voice called her name.

  Joselyn leapt to the door and threw up the latch. Yanking it open, she saw the one face she’d missed most.

  Tansy.

  Her curly-haired nurse stared up at her, eyes puffy with emotion. Joselyn took one look at the old woman and practically fell into her arms. Tansy’s warm body was round and soft, the definition of comfort.

  “Oh child. I was so worried, I was! I thought you’d been taken forever. That I’d never see you again.”

  Joselyn’s shoulders heaved on a sob and Tansy immediately pressed her backward into the chamber. The door latched behind them with an audible click.

  With unexpected strength, Tansy pulled Joselyn off her shoulder and held her at arm’s length. Joselyn’s tears seemed to have inspired her nurse’s. Now they were both crying. Tansy’s plump face pinched with concern as she swept eyes up and down Joselyn’s body.

  “Are you all right? You’ve not been harmed, have you?”

  Joselyn realized her weeping was half of what had her nurse so terrified. Even Tansy was unaccustomed to witnessing such outbursts from her. Joselyn tried to swallow, but only succeeded in temporarily choking herself and heightening her nurse’s anxiety. Tansy’s eyes widened, and she dragged Joselyn to the velvety bed at the back of the room. They sat together as Joselyn struggled to compose herself.

  “Now, now, hush child. It will be all right. You’re safe.” Tansy used both hands to brush Joselyn’s hair back.

  “Oh Tansy!”

  “What’s wrong, child? Tell me!”

  Joselyn shook her head, lip quivering. “Everything.”

  Tansy listened with a stroking hand as Joselyn lay in her lap and poured out the details of her captivity. All of them. From the terrifying day she was taken to the night just before. She’d slowed as she recounted the evening of passion she and Hollen had shared, but she didn’t withhold the truth. Not from Tansy. She needed someone to understand, and her nurse was the only one who would try.

  “Why did you want to return, my girl?”

  Joselyn’s ceased crying with a start. She sat up from Tansy’s lap to look her in the eye. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, why in the skies did you think to come back here? Knowing all you could have had elsewhere?”

  How could she answer? Why was Tansy even asking? What did it matter what she could have in Bedmeg when her duty lay here? But then, Tansy didn’t know what she knew. She didn’t realize what would have happened to their people if she hadn’t returned.

  “Do you love him, child?” Tansy scrutinized her hard.

  She wouldn’t lie. Not to Tansy. She had spent enough time lying to herself.

  “Yes. I love him.”

  Tansy nodded with no trace of surprise. “And you say he loves you.”

  Joselyn nodded.

  The old nurse inclined her chin. “Then nothing else matters.”

  Joselyn shook her head. “How can you say that? You know that I am to marry Lord Viridian. Surely you…” She trailed off, uncertain how much to say. “You must have guessed how important this is.”

  “Important to whom? Your father?” Tansy scowled.

  “My father, House Fury, our people. You and Horace.”

  A look of pain crossed Tansy’s face. Joselyn saw it then. The grief. Much like her father, her nurse had aged in the time since Joselyn had disappeared. The effect was far more devastating on Tansy.

  “Tansy?” Fear saturated her voice.

  “Horace passed two weeks after your disappearance, child.”

  Joselyn’s throat went dry even as a bevy of fresh tears began to rise. “Dead?”

  Tansy nodded. “It was a long time coming.”

  “Oh, Tansy, I’m so sorry!” Joselyn cried, forgetting her own troubles. She covered her nurse’s withered hands with her own. Misery ripped through her chest on behalf of her nurse.

  Tansy nodded, but no tears fell. It was as though her husband’s passing were a distant grief, one she didn’t intend to carry with her much longer. Something about it made Joselyn’s heart speed up. She squeezed her nurse’s hand.

 
“You’ll stay with me, then. Allow me to ensure your remaining years are lived out in comfort.”

  “I’ll see him again, child. That’s the only comfort I need. That, and the assurance of your safety and happiness. You must not marry that creature.”

  Joselyn stared at her nurse. “You cannot mean it. Would you have me defy my lord father?”

  Darkness like a thundercloud filled Tansy’s usually kind eyes. “I would have you live. And live life fully. Not to slip out from under the boot of one man who would use you only to fall beneath the next.”

  Joselyn’s lips parted. Her nurse had never spoken so plainly her opinion of Marcus Fury. Joselyn had never allowed it. But with the pain in her nurse’s eyes came a new energy, a determination of sorts. Joselyn blinked, amazed.

  “You’re only thinking of me. But what will happen to our people if my father is removed? Who will stand in his place? Morhagen is falling apart. Lord Fury is the only one keeping our lands from unraveling.”

  Tansy cocked her head, and her lips pulled into a sad smile. “Oh child, you’re so young.” She brushed a lock of hair over Joselyn’s ear. “So sweetly naive.”

  Despite her overwhelming misery, Joselyn still managed to bristle at the hint of benign contempt in her nurse’s expression. She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Tansy squeezed one of her hands. “You’re loyal and fierce as the day is long, my girl. And no one ever dared speak plainly in front of you, especially not about your father.”

  Joselyn searched Tansy’s eyes. For some reason, Joselyn held her breath.

  “Your father isn’t the great leader you think he is. He’s not a bad lord, but this image you’ve crafted in your mind is just that. A fancy idea.”

  “But, I’ve poured over our account books. I know how well-fed our people are. What of House Brandor? And Myron, and a dozen others? Their serfs decay with hunger.”

  Tansy nodded like she was trying to ease Joselyn into a bitter understanding. “Yes. But that’s circumstance, child, not your father’s leadership. The plague those years ago barely touched our lands, and we’ve not suffered drought as much as others. Of course your father claimed ownership of those fortunes. And of course you believed it. You’ve always clung to what little good you could find in his black soul.”